Woodstock woman's parents love never ending (video)

It was the spring of 1946, and the young, dashing Frank Vanore had just returned home from the war after serving in the Pacific.

Life seemed full of promise for the U.S. Marine from Fair Lawn, N.J., as he made his way out of St. Anne's Roman Catholic Church one Sunday morning.

Just then, he spotted a friend talking to "the most beautiful woman" he had ever seen.

Constance Kraivanger, he recalled, was tall and blonde and had a lively way about her and a smile "that eclipsed the May sun."

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In that very moment, the strong and brave military man got blindsided by the infamous lightning bolt.

Vanore was indeed smitten and began asking around about the fetching, svelte lady who took his breath away.

He quickly learned that she and her twin sister were extraordinarily popular and that he'd have to stand in a long line if he wanted to go out with her.

"The twins were so popular that their dates were rated by the days of the week. You started as a 'Monday,' and as you won favor, you aspired to be the 'Saturday Night Guy,' and work I did," said Vanore, now 88.

"It took me about a year until I hit the top of the list."

Vanore's account, told by his daughter, Julia Russell of Woodstock, is our winning love story out of several entries submitted to the Freeman for inclusion in our special Valentine's spread today.

Russell will receive a $100 gift certificate from Savonna's on the Rondout.

It is the depth of the couple's relationship that steals one's heart and sheds light on the real meaning of love.

It is more than a crush or a spark. It is, rather, about commitment and a willingness to live one's life selflessly for another.

So it was with Vanore.

Constance was his world and the woman who would forever hold his heart.

She died in his arms almost six years ago--not long after she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease.

Their story could easily be mistaken for Noah and Allie's from the 2004 film "The Notebook," and Vanore's daughter laughs softly when the comparison is made.

"He treated her really sweet and took care of her, and she was just really safe with him," Russell said of the post-Alzheimer's diagnosis in 2003 right after her parents' 55th wedding anniversary.

"He kept thinking it (the Alzheimer's disease) was going to turn around," she said.

"And he was not going to let her go into a nursing home. That was his goal -- to keep her home, so we just let him do what he needed to do."

Flash back to 1946 and that initial sighting on the church grounds in Bergen County, N.J.

Through further investigation, Vanore found out that Constance loved going to dances, so he got an idea.

He would badger his priest, Father Patrick Dalton, into letting him start a St. Francis of Assisi young adults' social club.

All the while, Vanore, who was also a twin, kept trying to catch Constance's attention.

As he tried to make inroads with Constance, she was beginning to notice and had heard that Vanore and his brother were home from the war.

According to family lore, someone pointed them out to her.

"My mother said, 'They're not so hot. She said he was so annoying. He just kept bothering her," Russell said.

But his persistence paid off, particularly after Constance's eyes were opened one summer.

A load of friends that included Constance and Vanore headed out to find a refreshing body of water into which they could take a dip on a hot day.

The first swimming spot was unavailable, so Vanore took everyone to an area he knew of near Sebago Lake.

Little did anyone know, Vanore couldn't swim, but he risked the embarrassment of others finding that out so they could have fun.

It was then that Constance "saw" him for the first time and fell in love, his daughter said.

"Because of his kindness and his consideration for other people and the fact that he was more concerned that everybody else had a good time, she was impressed," Russell said.

He proposed to her on Christmas Day in 1947 at her parents' home, and they were married by Father Dalton at St. Anne's on June 12, 1948.

The couple went on to have five children and dealt with all the rigors of raising a family.

Vanore was a city manager in New Jersey, and Constance worked as an executive secretary.

Russell said one of the striking things she remembers about her parents is that no matter what, their love for each other was always paramount to everything else.

"They would always go out on Saturday night, dancing. We used to love watching my mom get all dressed up," she said.

"They went on a lot of vacations. They were a real team. My dad was devoted to her. It was all about her. When we had fights, we always had to go apologize to our mom. He always adored her. It was obvious to everyone."

Russell said at times, she and her four siblings would try to play them off of each other, but it never worked.

She described them as an inseparable team and said her father never failed to model love and respect for his wife.

"I read once that the best thing a father can do is to love their children's mother, and I know that to be true. That was a gift to all of us children that he loved her the way that he did," Russell said.

His devotion to Constance just grew stronger after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in 2003, Russell recalled.

"It was for better or worse, rich or poor, in sickness and in health. When they married, they meant it. That was their generation."

Vanore continued to care for Constance at their home in New Jersey until her death at the age of 82 in 2007.

Russell said he was the only one her mother recognized and felt safe with.

"She became very docile with the Alzheimers, but what I did notice is that when she wasn't around my dad, she could get angry and scared.

"She always knew it was him. She never forgot him. She'd forget who we were, but she knew it was him," Russell said.

Vanore still gets choked up when he recalls the day his "beautiful companion" was taken from him.

"When she did die, she was sitting and didn't get up," Russell said, recalling her father's words. "She kind of collapsed in his arms and said, 'I'm so glad you're here.'"

After her death, Vanore moved in with Russell and her husband, Stephen, at their Woodstock home.

Now that her mother is gone, Russell looks back on their romance as a true lesson in love and something that younger couples might aspire to.

"What's better than being with someone and dying in their arms?

"When you look at their whole lifetime and their level of love and devotion, you have to be impressed. That's really the romance," she said.

"They had a normal marriage. They had fights. They got really mad at each other. They dealt with raising the five children and financial burdens, but they worked through all that. They made it all the way through."

Russell said when her father learned about the Freeman's invitation for love stories, he got on it right away and was thrilled when he heard it had won.

So was Russell.

"Their story is about commitment. It's not just when it's good. It's not all about you. It's about loving someone so much that you always put their happiness before yours."